What Matters
by Coilerfan35
Summary: Just a little something that came to my mind after watching the promo for the 100th episode. Pre-Partnership romance...I can't seem to think of a summary xD Just, she runs, but realizes she's sick of running.


**An: Eh a one shot that seemed to come to my mind after seeing the promo for the 100th episode :D I'm so excited, I can't wait...seriously, I like seriously can't wait.**

* * *

It was only a week, but it felt like years. They grew so attached to each other, feelings started to arouse that sent Brennan into a horrible state of fear.

She would see him and a smile would immediately creep to her features, and she would feel…happy; but when she thought of her reaction later, she always scolded herself for being so irrational.

She didn't know why she felt the way she did, nor did she know exactly what she felt, but she knew it was something, wonderful…and that in itself scared the hell out of her.

She received a call, earlier that day, and she accepted their offer. That night, she would go to the airport, and leave for Syria, where she would arrive the next day, and be transported out into the desert on the edge of Abu Kamal.

She had ran from relationships before, but, this one seemed to be different, and she oddly felt the need to tell him that she was leaving.

But it all seemed harder when they actually came face to face.

He smiled wide, and gently rested his hand on her cheek like he always did, his finger brushing against her skin before he leaned in and kissed her, sparks flying through her body and into her distant extremities.

Her teeth dug deep into her lip and her chest heaved, angered about how quickly he was able to recognize that something was wrong with her.

"Bones," he whispered, a hand coming to rest gently on her hip, "What's wrong?"

"It's…" she started, looking up into his eyes and stopping, sighing heavily and stepping away from him "I'm sorry…"

His hands fisted and fell to his side "About what?" he whispered.

"I…got a call today, and I was extended an offer to travel to Syria, where ancient remains were discovered."

"You love ancient remains," he nodded, smiling weakly.

"Yes…and, I accepted."

"How long will you be gone?" he asked, crossing his arms defensively over his chest, his eyes darkening in pain.

"A month," she answered, her eyes averting to the floor "Or more."

"Where, exactly, in Syria?" his voice deep now, assertive, protective.

"Abu Kamal," she whispered, her eyes floating to the ceiling gently as she became more precise "Well, the desert about 10 miles away from Abu Kamal."

"Bones," he growled, stepping forward "That's border line with Iraq; it's not safe for you to be there."

"Booth, I'll be with 24/7 posted guards," she argued, knowing that even that didn't mean she would be safe.

"That doesn't matter, you aren't going."

"You can't tell me what to do. If I want to go to Syria, I will. I don't care about our problems with Iraq, that's not my battle. My only objective is to retrieve and analyze the remains within the city."

"You don't understand," he whispered, moving into her personal space "It's not all sand and daisies over their Bones. Even the nicest of people can turn around and want your blood on their hands. It's not safe, for you, an American woman, to be in heated grounds."

"I'm not weak Booth; I can take care of myself," she argued, turning to move back into her bedroom, but his hand wrapped around her wrist.

"You can't fend off a bullet Bones, you can only duck, and hope to be spared. The bottom line is, you aren't going."

"Yes, I am. I'm already packed, and my cab arrives in 15 minutes. I would very much appreciate it if you released me, so I could start moving my things downstairs," she rationalized, removing her wrist from his hand and rolling her bags from her room, handing him her laptop case and one of her bags.

They moved down the steps in silence, his body tense, waves of anger and worry floating from him, and a feeling sunk into her chest that she only felt once before; when her parents disappeared; and she felt genuinely lonely, and heartbroken.

*****

It was funny, the way he felt seemed to match perfectly with the heavy cold rain that fell from the heavens.

They were silent, completely silent, as the cab pulled up and he moved her bags to the car.

They didn't kiss good bye, they didn't even hug, she just simply got into the cab and she closed the door.

He would have never thought that a week ago he would have fallen for her. He didn't know that it would hurt so much for her to leave, and he surely didn't know that it would feel like his heart was being ripped out, when she turned and waved at him through the back window.

His chest rose and fell heavily, and he waved, watching as the car turned the corner, and disappeared from sight.

*****

He seemed to stare at the bottle of scotch before him for hours, a shot glass resting and ready while his hands wrung between his knees and he fought to take that first drink.

It hurt too much, he hurt too much, and he couldn't stand to take that first drink, because he knew that if he took that first sip, he wouldn't remember his life for the next 2 days.

He shook his head and rested his forehead against his hands, shaking in anger, and pure, agonizing pain, a single tear falling from his eye to splash on the wood floor below him.

He couldn't handle this, it was too much, and he never ever cried over anything. He suffered torture, and abuse without a single cry, but this single woman, reduced him to this…

He popped open the bottle and poured the shot glass, about to bring the glass to his lips before a soft knocked echoed through his apartment.

He growled and stood up, throwing the door open, and gasping softly as she stood in front of him, her hair falling around her shoulders, wet and dark, her eyes wide and pleading.

He couldn't help himself and immediately wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck and breathing shakily, crushing her to him and shaking gently in her arms.

"I…decided not to go," she whispered against his ear, kissing his neck gently and holding him tighter around his neck. "I realized that…it scared me more to leave, and loose you, that it was to stay."

"Oh Temperance," he whispered, his hands spanning her back and lifting her into his arms, holding her as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

She pulled back and kissed him softly, but passionately, her hands resting on his cheeks as their tongues moved together.

She opened her eyes and pulled back, noticing the scotch and sighing "You were going to drink weren't you?"

"Until I couldn't remember my name," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers "It hurt," he choked out "I don't know why…but it hurt."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, pressing her lips to his, and rubbing her thumb against his cheek "I'm so…so sorry."

"Let me-"

"Yes," she whispered immediately, kissing him again deeply, pouring everything she could into that kiss, pressing herself completely flush to him as he wrapped his arms tighter and moved through the hallway.

That night was the first time they made love together, and if a word could quantify the way it felt, the only word that would come to their minds would be explosive.

Their skin was plastered to each others, soaked in sweat, and delirious with pure pleasure.

She immediately rested against his chest, her eyes closing as he ran his fingers through her hair, pressing his lips to her forehead and admiring her pale skin against his tan muscle.

"Bones," he whispered, smiling as she lazily looked up at him and smiled tiredly "You're beautiful."

Her smile widened and she kissed him, resting her forehead against his neck and sighing happily as he enveloped her in his arms. "Mmm Booth," she murmured his name, curling perfectly to his side, gently chewing her lip before falling asleep in his arms.

It was almost noon by the time they awoke and they felt so happy to wake up beside the other, immediately began moving with each other, again leaving them completely satisfied and weak.

"I don't want this to end Booth," she whispered against his lips, her fingers running across his nape.

"I don't either," Booth admitted, resting on his elbow and running his fingers down her neck.

"And I'm sorry," she murmured, brushing her fingers against his cheek "for hurting you."

"You came back, that's all that matters."


End file.
